


How it Really Happened

by louis_lucid_dreams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Other, Vague descriptions of violence, also mention of throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louis_lucid_dreams/pseuds/louis_lucid_dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth behind One Direction band member Louis Tomlinson's infamous fatherhood. You want answers? You want facts? Well, you've come to the right place!</p>
            </blockquote>





	How it Really Happened

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story to make light of a stressful situation. Plus, I love writing about the One Direction people going crazy. As you have probably guessed, this story doesn't actually contain the answers. I don't know any more than you do.  
> But I do think they're funny.  
> Also, thanks to kyuubified on tumblr for the baby name :) ... your post was inspiring!  
> I hope you enjoy! Haha, I wrote it purely for fun.

HOW IT REALLY HAPPENED

The truth behind One Direction band member Louis Tomlinson’s infamous fatherhood.  
You want answers? You want facts? Well, you’ve come to the right place!

June 17th, 2015  
The Very Day

Let’s set the scene: a warm L.A. evening. Two young lads walking together towards a club, side by side but not touching. The night ahead, promising adventure and fun.

Oh, there would be adventure, all right.

“I don’t do this sort of thing very often,” Harry, the taller of the two, said to his companion. “You’re quite sure it will be safe?”

“Oh, relax,” Louis, the shorter, older one replied. “Live a little!”

“Well, alright,” Harry relented, holding open the door for his friend. They stepped inside the club, which was full of lights and sound and people, and in fact was quite a shock compared to the peaceful solitude they had enjoyed outside. Harry cringed visibly, but followed Louis up to the bar without complaint.

“Two beers, on the house, please,” Louis commanded, brimming with self-confidence and obnoxious entitlement. Of course, the bartender would have none of it.

“You’re paying for those!” he growled, and waited to hand over the drinks until Louis gave him the proper amount of money. And even then, he spilled them a little while slamming them on the counter. But that may have been a mistake. For now, he was forgiven.

“What are we going to do here?” Harry asked, wrinkling his nose as a herd of shirtless men barreled past a bit too close for comfort.

“Er. Dance? Drink? Have fun? Excuse me, sir, have you never been to a club before?” Louis snapped his fingers sassily and led them over to one of the tables. 

There was a moment, as Harry rolled his eyes, and Louis was setting their drinks on the table, when time seemed to slow down. The people on the dance floor parted as one, creating a clear view of the other side of the room. And there, directly across from them, sitting by herself, was a young blond beauty. She had looked up at the same moment as Louis, and as their eyes met she gave him a shy, mysterious smile. She was eating. A. Carrot.

Their drinks fell to the floor.

“Oh my God, are you okay?!” Harry yelped, jumping back to avoid the shards of glass flying in every direction. 

And just like that, the spell was broken.

“Wha—?” Louis asked, blinking in surprise. He felt confused for a moment, as if he had just woken from a dream to find himself in unfamiliar surroundings. Then it came back to him. “Ajegabuhh,” he said, apparently incapable of coherent speech.

Harry was staring at him. Lots of people were, actually; he had a rather bad cut on his leg from one of the beer glasses, and it was bleeding freely onto the floor. But he hardly noticed.

“Louis,” Harry whispered (or said as quietly as he could, really. It was very loud in that club). “Are you alright?”

Louis heard Harry’s voice as if it were coming to him from far away, or underwater. Everything was muffled. The lights pulsed with the beat of the music, and he felt as if he were sinking lower, lower into the dark, dark depths of a deep, calm ocean. 

He knew what he needed to do. He had waited for this moment, this moment, his whole life. It was now or never.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, and surged forward into the crowd.

“Louis—wait—!” Harry yelled after him, but Louis didn’t care. He ducked through the masses, avoiding arms, elbows, and once, a knee (there were some freakishly tall people there—he wasn’t really that short!), until he emerged, on the other side of the dance floor, and found her.

It was like magic.

“Um. Hi?” she giggled charmingly as he walked up, like a zombie, and stood in front of her table. Just as he had thought (hoped, dreamed for years), sitting before this wonderful, miraculous girl was an entire plate of carrots. And not baby carrots, mind you. This woman was the real deal.

The real effing deal.  
And so he asked her, right out. “Do you want to have a baby with me?”

She burst into charming peals of laughter, and Louis thought he might faint from the joy of it all, until a rather familiar voice brought the proceedings to a screeching halt.

“What?!” Harry shouted, appearing seemingly from out of nowhere, though Louis reasoned that he must have followed him across the room. “Excuse me!?” he spun Louis around to face him, a bit too forcefully, and stared at him with an expression of deepest disbelief.

There was an extremely uncomfortable pause while Louis tried to figure out what to do, during which his Angel (the girl) stopped laughing, and a few tears leaked out of Harry’s eyes and down his cheeks.

Finally, Louis shrugged. “What,” he said flatly, and stepped back, out of Harry’s reach. “What do you want?”

To his horror, Harry burst into tears. “W-w-what the hell do you mean, ‘what do I want’?! We’ve b-been d-d-dating for y-years!” he gasped, shrinking away as though Louis had hit him. “I thought—I thought—”

“Well, whatever you thought, you were wrong,” Louis interrupted, still in the strange robot voice he had assumed. “I was always straight, Hazza. I never even liked you.” He blinked, surprised he had said such a thing. That wasn’t true, was it? But, no, looking back on it, he had never really felt anything more than affection towards Harry. Any attraction would’ve been because the boy was so darn feminine…

“Oh, God,” Harry shuddered, tears streaming down his face at an alarming pace. It took him a few tries, gulping for air, before he finally said, “L-L-Louis, y-you’re ill. W-we need to get y-you h-home!” He reached for Louis’s hand, eyes wide and pleading.

Louis made a mistake, then. One he would regret later. But at the time, he was going on pure instinct (bordering on insanity). He flinched away. He shook his head firmly. And he turned his back.

He could hear Harry’s sobs, loud and painful, as he stood there for a moment longer. And, still, as he finally stumbled away, and out of the building.

But he was looking at the Angel.

She was a bit less delightful now, pale and scared and shocked looking, but Louis ignored this. It was too late to go back. He had made his decision.

“I meant what a said earlier,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “Do you want to do it?”

She gave him a long, searching look, taking in his expensive clothes, messy hair, and stubble. “Who the hell are you?” she finally blurted out, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms defensively.

“My name is Louis Tomlinson. And I want to know yours,” Louis said, with a dangerous bad boy flair. Her eyes grew large and round as pennies.

Her hand floated to the last carrot on her plate and began to stroke it, almost subconsciously. A wide grin spread across her pretty face. “Briana,” she said.

And that was how it all began.

 

June 19th, 2015  
The Immediate Aftermath

“WHAT?!!” Liam roared into his phone, causing Sophia, sitting beside him, to jump with fright. “ARE YOU SERIOUS!?”

“What, Liam, what’s going on?!” Sophia asked in a panic. Liam motioned for her to be quiet as he listened intently to whatever was being said on the other end. It couldn’t have been anything good; he looked angrier than she had ever seen him.

After a few more minutes of heated conversation, he hung up the phone and threw it across the room. “Liam!” Sophia squeaked in terror.

“Sorry,” Liam said, breathing hard. His brown eyes were bulging out of their sockets. “It’s just that Louis’s gone and gotten a girl PREGNANT!” he leapt up and began to pace around the room.

“Oh my god. You’re kidding,” Sophia said, half-laughing and watching her boyfriend with apprehension. 

“I am not kidding!” Liam yelled, and suddenly stopped his pacing. He looked at Sophia very, very seriously. “We have to tell Harry,” he said, a wild look in his eye.

“Oh my god,” Sophia breathed, hugging a cushion to her chest for comfort. “Oh my god, this is real, you’re serious. Oh my god.”

There was a moment of silence. “I feel sick,” Liam announced. Sophia sat there, the reality of it all crashing down upon her, and nodded dumbly in agreement.

....

Harry had not gotten out of bed for two days. He also hadn’t eaten, showered, or changed out of the clothes he had worn the night they went clubbing.

He was, in other words, a mess.

Surrounded by blankets and piles of dirty tissues (day one had been taken up mainly by sobbing), he didn’t hear his mobile ringing until he shifted to get in a more comfortable reading position (he was reading every romance novel within reaching distance) (he owned quite a few) and it rolled out from under his pillow.

“Oh, no,” he moaned, deciding at the last minute to press talk. “What is it?” he asked dully.

“Erm... Hi, Harry,” it was Liam, of course, who had probably just had the whole mortifying tale told to him in horrifying detail from the fabulous, new and improved, Straight As a Ruler Louis.

“He told you, didn’t he. What did he say about me?” Harry’s voice shook despite his efforts to remain calm. 

“Er, ha ha. What... Who...? So, er, you know, I guess?” Liam sounded, Harry thought, unreasonably nervous. He had at least been hoping for some words of comfort. Apparently that was too much to ask for, though.

“Yeah. I know that he was really always straight and he’s a liar and he never really l-l-loved me,” Harry sniffed pathetically, a traitorous tear slipping down his cheek and onto his lips.

“Oh, I’m—god, Harry, I’m so sorry, I don’t even... I don’t know why the hell he would... But, what are you gonna do? I mean, what’s your plan? If she, you know... If she doesn’t get an abortion?”

“Wait. W-what?” Harry felt a strange sort of calm coming over him, as if were merely observing the situation, rather than living it. Ah, I see, now your ex-boyfriend’s gotten an abortion. No, wait, that made no sense. He wasn’t thinking clearly! “Liam, what?”

There was silence on the other line. Just as Harry was about to check to see if he had accidently hung up, though, Liam cleared his throat uncomfortably. “He... He got someone pregnant, Harry. A girl. He got a girl pregnant.”

Now it was Harry’s turn to be quiet. He felt numb, and dizzy, like the time he and Niall had spun around and around in a circle until they fell onto their backs, laughing hysterically. He didn’t really feel like laughing, though. Vomiting, more like. Yeah, that was probably going to happen pretty soon.

“Oh my,” he said mildly, aware that the hand holding his phone was shaking rather violently. “So he did that, hmm? Right, well, I guess I’ll be going, so, bye now.” He hung up without thinking. His whole body was shaking now, and fresh tears stung his cheeks as he leaned forward and was sick on the blankets.

....

“So, just to get this straight, we’re not really dating, babe. Okay?” Briana said this completely out of the blue. Clearly she had wanted to catch him off guard.

“We’re not?” Louis yelped, stopping dead in his tracks. They were in the middle of a lovely stroll around the city, admiring the young green leaves on all the trees, and discussing terribly boring topics such as ultrasounds, child support, and yadda yadda, he hadn’t even bothered listening to the rest, but when he reached (quite naturally) for his beauty’s hand, she pulled away and let loose that awful statement. “What do you mean, we’re not dating? We’re gonna get married, aren’t we? I had it all planned out!”

“Let me guess, these plans somehow involve a carrot cake, don’t they?” Briana teased, tugging on a strand of Louis’s brown hair. Louis beamed; he and the girl of his dreams were united at last, with a baby on the way and a summer of possibility before them. Things really couldn’t be better.

“Well, you got me there. I admit, I’ve placed the order for a dozen carrot cakes already.”

“Placed the—wait a second, Louis. You mean you’ve actually been planning our wedding?” She grabbed his arm (he nearly swooned), a look of panic on her striking face. “Louis, we are not getting married! I’m serious. Whatever plans you’ve made, you have to cancel them. First of all, you haven’t even proposed to me! And anyway, I thought we were just friends. Like, best friends. You know?” She eyed him nervously, waiting, no doubt, for the explosion.

But Louis didn’t explode. He smiled serenely, and said, “Okay. Friends is good. I’ll still have those carrot cakes, though, my lovely little carrot cake.” He poked her nose creepily and continued walking as though nothing had happened.

Briana shuddered. Of all the rich guys she could have a baby with, he would’ve been her last choice. She’d much rather have gone with his sweet gay friend, that Styles guy. But, alas. Here they were. Two days in.

“Yup. Friends.” She said.

They continued on.

....

Niall was golfing. Although his score wasn’t too great at the moment, he was enjoying himself all the same, and had taken a minute to stand and feel the breeze on his face when someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Huh?” he said stupidly, turning around to see who it was. “Alberto?! What are you doing here, mate? Great to see you!” he did a little skip-step and jumped into Alberto’s arms, squeezing him in a very tight hug.

“Whoa, there, Niall. Calm down,” Alberto laughed, setting the Irishman back on his feet. “Sorry to interrupt your game, but you’ve got to come with me. Some sort of news or something that Louis wants to tell you.”

“Oh,” Niall said, glancing over his shoulder at the fields beyond them, his friends waiting for him a bit farther along. “I mean, can’t it wait?”

“No, sorry, man. He told me to bring you right away.” Alberto shrugged apologetically. “C’mon. Let’s go,”

Niall sighed. “Oh, all right,” he said grumpily, removing his gloves. “Just let me get my stuff together. I’m comin’.”

“Great. Thanks,” Alberto smiled.

Little did they know what was in store for them.

....

“You know, Briana, I’ve been thinking. Shouldn’t we tell our parents about this?” Louis and Briana were sitting together at his kitchen table, discussing, as they had all day long, plans for the future.

Briana looked uncomfortable. “...Um, yeah, I guess. I just... Don’t think they’d, um...”

“Approve?” Louis asked, with a cheeky smile. It was the first hint of intelligence he’d shown since she’d met him, and threw her off quite a bit.

“Um. Yeah. Don’t you think they’ll be angry?” she shifted in her expensive (and uncomfortable) seat, avoiding his penetrating gaze.

To her surprise, Louis let out a tinkling laugh. “Angel, we’re adults. They can’t tell us what to do. Besides, we’re made for each other. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“I guess... Okay, sure, we’ll tell them. When do you think we should do it?” Since he had brought it up and seemed to suddenly be using his brain, Briana decided that she might as well let him choose when to meet with their parents. So maybe he was smart, after all. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

Louis grinned. “I’m glad you agreed,” he said, reaching for her hand across the table (she subtly moved away). “I’ve already arranged for them to come down tomorrow, along with some other people. No big deal. Just some people I wanted to tell.” 

Briana grimaced. “Louis, you have to stop doing things without consulting me first,” she said gently. Louis’s smile vanished, replaced by a furtive, guilty look as he stared at the tabletop. “I mean, it’s okay this time. I forgive you. But please ask me before you make plans for us, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled, still refusing to meet her eyes.

Just then, there was a loud knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Louis said quickly, jumping up from his seat and running out into the hall. “Who’s there?” he shouted.

“The devil!” Niall’s voice replied, followed by the sound of his crazed laughter. “Let me in!”

“Yeah, yeah, come on in, devil,” Louis said, rolling his eyes. He opened the door to reveal Niall and Alberto, who was, for some reason, holding a box of chocolates. “Erm, I’m not your girlfriend, Alberto. Who are those for?”

“You,” Alberto said, stepping inside after Niall and closing the door behind them. “You said you had news, so I thought it might be serious. Brought some chocolate to cheer you up.”

“Wow... thanks,” Louis said, tearing up a bit at this thoughtfulness and snatching the box out of Alberto’s hands. “But it’s good news, really. First I want to introduce you all to my friend, Briana.” He led them into the kitchen, where Briana sat waiting, fiddling with her earrings and looking quite nervous.

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you,” she said, standing up and walking over to shake their hands.

Niall raised his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said, giving Louis a puzzled look over her shoulder. Louis just kept smiling. “I’m Niall.”

“Alberto,” Alberto said, shaking her hand firmly. “So, what’s the story?”

“Briana and I, well... We’re having a baby,” Louis declared, tearing up for real now. “Best decision of my life,” he added, wiping his eyes nobly.

Niall gaped at him. Alberto swore loudly. Briana squirmed.

“That... What the heck?” Niall asked breathlessly, stepping away from Louis as though he had some sort of contagious illness. “But, but. What about Harry?”

“What about Harry?” Louis responded, walking over to the fridge and opening the door casually. He added, for good measure, “Who’s Harry?”

Niall stood, opening and closing his mouth silently, for a good twenty seconds. Finally, going rather red in the face, he said loudly, “You monster!” 

And he ran out of the house.

“Hold on, little man!” Alberto cried, tearing out after him without so much as a goodbye. The door slammed, and there was silence.

Louis blinked. “What just happened?” he asked.

Briana shrugged.

June 20th, 2015  
The Parents

It was another hot summer’s day, and Louis’s air conditioning had no way to compete with a living room crowded full of people. Being the clever lad he was, Louis had compensated by throwing open the windows, allowing the (very) occasional breeze to waft through and, in theory, cool everyone off. Unfortunately, this plan had backfired, and Louis and Briana’s families (as well as quite a few other people) were instead extremely hot and surrounded by bugs seeking refuge from the harsh summer sun.

It was quite a strange scene. Simon Cowell, having been informed of the situation the night before from an upset and frantic Alberto, was standing at the front of the room, obviously waiting to give some sort of speech. Mr. and Mrs. Deakin and all of Louis’s siblings sat in the front row of metal folding chairs that Louis had painstakingly set up that morning, Lottie bouncing the babies on her knees in an effort to calm them. Briana’s parents were settled behind them, looking rather lost and confused as they gazed around at their grand surroundings.

In the next row sat Niall, Liam, and, surprisingly, Zayn, who looked as though he absolutely did not want to be there and had brought Naughty Boy for comfort. The final row seated Sophia, Perrie, and Eleanor, and, squished into the last two chairs, Alberto and Ben Winston, who was looking very smug as usual.

Harry was noticeably absent.

“Okay,” Simon called from the front of the room. “Let’s get this over with, now.” The room quieted, everyone looking expectantly at Simon or else letting their gaze wander to Louis and Briana, who were standing off to his left. “Alright. I’m sure all of you know that I am always, no matter what, proud of these boys,” he began, glancing quickly at Zayn, who scowled. “And no matter what they—”

“Oh, get on with it!” Lottie demanded, wiping sweat off her brow and rubbing Ernest’s back gently. Disturbingly, the baby immediately spit up, though he was, by then, over a year old. Lottie stared accusingly at her mum and handed the twin over to her, trying to ignore the stain on her new shirt.

Simon chuckled uneasily. “Well, then,” he said, “Let’s let the man speak for himself. Louis, would you come up, please!” This was a rather uncomfortable moment, seeing as there was nowhere to “come up” to, and the whole thing was bizarre and weirdly formal. 

Someone clapped for a second, until they realized that they were alone and quickly stopped.

Louis took Simon’s place. “Hello, everyone,” he said grandly, sweeping his gaze across the room. “Friends, family, and one idiot who does not deserve to be here, but who I won’t mention by name.” Everyone shifted slightly away from Naughty Boy. “You are all here for the same purpose. To hear me talk.” This was met with a loud laugh from Naughty Boy himself, but Louis glared at him and no one else joined in. Eleanor huffed. 

Tension filled the room.

“Okay, anyway, I want to tell you all a story,” Louis continued, a hint of a smile appearing on his face despite the death glares he was receiving from the entire third row. “Once, there was a little man, quite handsome in fact, and all he wanted from life was a beautiful woman... Who would eat carrots every day, and birth his firstborn son.”

There was a flurry of activity throughout the room. “What do you man, Louis? You gone crazy?! Where there hell is Harry, anyway? Stop screwing with us, man!” Zayn yelled, inspiring a chorus of “Yeah!”s and “Tell us the truth!”s.

Louis swallowed. A bead of sweat rolled down his face, dripping onto his shirt collar. “Well, the truth is—” he faltered, catching sight of Niall’s livid stare. “Erm. Mum, Lottie, guys, I’m... I’m...”

“I’m pregnant,” Briana said, stepping in front of Louis. Ben Winston gasped dramatically. 

“We’re gonna have a baby!” Louis shrieked ecstatically, attempting to pick Briana up and swing her around, but thinking better of it when he saw that they were roughly the same height. “Isn’t it great? Isn’t it amazing?!” He did a little jig as Ben Winston clapped for them enthusiastically, seeming genuinely moved by this announcement.

Mrs. Deakin stood up. She grabbed Louis’s shirt collar, forcing him to keep still. And she said, in a quiet voice filled with venom, “Say again?”

Okay, so maybe things weren’t going so well.

July 14th, 2015  
Word Gets Out

Now, I am sure that you remember this day quite vividly, as many people have described it as “life-changing” and “traumatizing”. However, my friend, you don’t know the half of it.

....

Harry was tired. So, so tired, and they had another show tomorrow, and he couldn’t take much more of this, seriously, he seriously honestly really couldn’t. He took a deep breath. “Liam!” he yelled, waiting for his friend to enter the room before continuing, “I want a candy!”

“Jesus, Harry, I’m not your servant!” Liam cringed, bringing a hand up to one of his ears. “And you don’t need to yell, I’m right in front of you!”

“I want candy,” Harry repeated, flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “We have Aero bars and M&Ms. I want one of those.”

Liam crossed his arms. “If you want it, get it yourself,” he said firmly. “You can’t sulk forever, you know.”

“I’m not sulking!” Harry pouted, rolling onto his stomach. “I just want candy,” he said into the carpet.

Liam sighed despairingly. He knew it was true; Harry had been doing an incredible job performing in their shows lately, and now that management knew about him and Louis breaking up, they were being forced to interact again. That, along with Louis’s unrelenting pompous attitude (also nightly phone calls with Briana, lectures about the importance of carrots, and periods of blank staring) was enough to make anyone crave chocolate.

Fetching an Aero bar was really the least Liam could do. 

“All right, all right, candy’s on the way,” he relented, crouching down to pat Harry on the head before walking back into the kitchen. They had been staying at the same hotel for a couple of nights, now, and considering the sad circumstances, Niall and Liam were allowed to share a room with Harry, leaving Louis and his big head all to himself.

“So do you want both, or just one of them?” Liam called from the kitchen.

Harry grunted. “Don’t care,” he mumbled, still face-down on the floor. “Chocolate. Mmm,” he added.

Liam laughed, reentering the room holding two Aero bars and a bowl full of M&Ms. “Here you are,” he said, sitting down next to Harry. “You’ll have to get up to eat it, though.”

Harry sighed heavily, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Thanks, Liam, you’re amaz—”

“DID SOMEONE SAY CANDY?!” bellowed Niall, tumbling into the room dressed only in his socks and underwear. “Gimme some!!!”

“Aaaah, Niall, put some clothes on!” Liam cried, while Harry dissolved into a fit of giggles. “You’ll traumatize us, eating in that!”

“You’ve seen me naked before,” Niall said unconcernedly, grabbing a handful of M&Ms and plopping down beside them. “I was takin’ a shower, but than I heard you say something about candy, so I came running.” He eyed the Aero bars sitting next to the bowl. “Hey, why isn’t there one for me?”

“Because—you weren’t—here—!” Harry gasped between giggles, falling back to the floor. 

Liam shook his head. “You two are mad,” he said, “Completely mad. I don’t know how you handle yourselves in public, to be honest.”

“That’s when we’re on our best behavior!” Niall said brightly, leaning back against Harry’s fallen form. “It uses all our energy up, so the rest of the time we have to be our True Selves.” He waggled his eyebrows mysteriously.

Liam smirked. “Then I’m sad I have to deal with your True Selves,” he said. “It’s quite draining, to be honest—”

Suddenly, the door to their room flew open, and in sprinted Louis, tears streaming down his face and his hair a total mess. “Lads!” he choked, stumbling to a halt in the middle of the room. “Lads, I really messed up. I totally blew it.” They stared at him.

“Wait, you’re serious? You’re apologizing?” Niall asked, the first to recover. He stood up to face Louis. “Is she gonna get an abortion?”

Louis looked annoyed. “What? No! What the heck are you on about, Niall? No, it’s just, it’s just—” he was overcome by a fresh wave of tears.

“Oy! Close the door, you prat, we’ll get kicked out of the building!” Liam commanded. Louis shakily did as he was told, returning to the room and sitting on the floor with them. Harry recoiled.

“Okay, well, it’s not that big a deal, it just kind of is,” Louis continued, wiping his face with the corner of his T-shirt. 

“Out with it,” Liam said, looking grumpy. 

Louis gulped. “It got leaked,” he whispered, leaning forward into their midst. “One of Briana’s friends told the press, and the story’s everywhere.” He showed them the article on his phone. “We weren’t going to release it until next week,” he said, eyes wide.

Oh. Uh oh,” Liam scratched the back of his neck. “Have you told Simon?” he asked. 

“I don’t need to, you idiot! This story is everywhere. Everyone knows!” He began to hyperventilate.

“Oh my god, Louis, calm down!” Liam grudgingly put a hand on Louis’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. They would’ve known in a week, anyway. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I—I guess you’re right.” Louis gave a weak smile. His eyes found Niall. “What do you think?”

Niall frowned. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens,” he said, looking anywhere but at Louis, or Harry, for that matter, who was shaking rather alarmingly.  
It seemed that Liam noticed this as well. “Erm, why don’t you go find Alberto, Louis,” he said, steering the boy to the exit. “I’m sure it’ll all blow over anyway. Just keep cool, alright?”

Louis nodded. “’Bye,” he said, mercifully leaving without a fight. “See you guys later.”

“Later,” Niall replied grimly.

The door clicked closed.

Harry began to sob.

“Oh, dear,” Liam muttered, kneeling beside his friend.

Niall squeezed his eyes shut. He was beginning to get a headache.

July 23rd, 2015  
The Dream

Louis was tired, arriving back from the airport after a quick visit to Briana, during which they went to an ultrasound and ate lunch together in her parents’ house.

He checked into the hotel he was staying at with the boys, and slowly made his way up the stairs and down the hall. He couldn’t help staring at the door to their room as he passed, wondering what they were all doing and if they were talking about him…

Once in his room, he changed, brushed his teeth, and gratefully fell into bed, ready to let sleep sweep him up and carry him off.

And so it did.

....

He was standing in a large, grimy hospital room, being jostled about by the many doctors and nurses hurrying to and fro, all of them wearing bright turquoise surgical scrubs and calling out orders in a foreign language. Grotesque cartoon carrots were painted on the walls, and countless pigeons were circling overhead, the way hawks do when they’ve found a meal.

“Out of my way,” a large, bulky doctor said menacingly as he shoved Louis aside. He was walking away, towards whatever the other doctors were all so focused on, when he paused and turned back around. “You better play your cards right,” he said slowly, giving Louis a look filled with loathing. “If you count all your aces, you just might win.” He disappeared into the crowd.

“Wait!” Louis called after him, but it was too late. The only man who could speak English in this room had vanished. “Wait!” he said again, throwing himself into the chaos, struggling after the mysterious stranger.

As he continued forward, however, the people around him began sprouting feathers, their noses growing longer, longer, longer, until they had formed beaks. They burst out of their surgical clothes, wings spreading out from behind their backs, arms slithering back into their bodies.

They were pigeons.

Louis screamed, rushing ahead, running and running through the feathers and talons and beaks, until at last he came to a small hospital cot, upon which a young blond woman lay, holding a large, bloody carrot. She looked up and smiled at him sleepily, rocking the carrot back and forth and singing a sad, slow lullaby Louis remembered, but not quite, from a long time ago. Finally she stopped singing, and whispered, “Look at your hand.” 

Louis looked down at his hands obediently, fearing that he would see feathers there, and was surprised instead to see a deck of cards.

“Count your aces, you just might win!” the woman encouraged him earnestly. She burst into fanatical laughter, and began to eat the carrot savagely.

Louis stood transfixed until he felt a talon on his shoulder. He turned, and found himself face-to-face with the man from earlier, only now the man was a giant pigeon. The pigeon shook its head sadly. “They never learn, do they?” it said, referring, Louis thought, to the crazy blond woman. “It would be best for you to eat them all.”

 

....

Louis woke up.

August 12th, 2015  
Day on the Beach

“Hey, are you alright, babe?” Briana poked Louis’s side gently, startling him out of his stupor.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said. “Just thinking.”

Briana laughed. “And what are you thinking about?” she asked flirtatiously, handing him a Popsicle from the cooler. They had spent the day on the beach together, a rather pleasant experience overall, but now it was getting dark and she could tell he was getting antsy. Louis liked to be home, or in the hotel, or wherever he was staying, by the time the sun went down. This was a new habit, starting just few weeks ago, and she had no idea what it was about.

Louis smiled sheepishly. “Just, things, you know,” he said, burrowing his toes into the sand. “The baby. And stuff. You can almost kind of see the bump, now.”

“Hey!” Briana smacked him with her towel, and they both laughed. Strangely enough, despite his weird behavior and carrot fetish, Briana found herself becoming quite fond of Louis. Almost as if they were real friends.

“Well, only a little!” he amended, unwrapping his Popsicle. “If you use your imagination.”

“That’s better,” Briana said, relaxing. They were quiet for a few minutes, listening to the sea wash up onto the shore in silent companionship, until Louis spoke up again.

“Do you think I could name them?” he asked suddenly. “The baby, I mean. When they’re born. Would it be all right if I chose the name?”

“Oh! Well, um...” Briana stuttered herself into silence. She hadn’t really thought of that, before. Well, she supposed, it couldn’t cause any harm, really, and she could always just use a nickname if he came up with something completely awful. Besides, he obviously cared about the baby as much as her. And chances were that he wouldn’t get to spend a lot of time with them after it was born. “Okay, sure, I guess,” she said. “Got anything in mind?”

“Oh, not really,” Louis replied, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe.”

“But you’re not going to tell me?” she guessed, knowing by now that Louis preferred to keep some things—in fact, most things—to himself.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, not now. Maybe later. I’m still working it out.” He lay down on their beach towel, gazing at the velvety black sky above them. “I’m just so excited, though.”

Briana nodded absently.

All things considered, not a bad day.

September 18th, 2015  
The Worst Day

The last month had been extremely busy, schedules full up with recording, interviews, and the final stretch of the tour. Harry was extremely relieved at the prospect of the day ahead, their first day off in forever, felt like, and was just about to call Niall to see if he wanted to hang out when there was a knock on his door.

Puzzled, Harry walked over to it. Not many people knew his address. In fact, like, zero, pretty much. “Who is it?” he called cautiously. Could it be a burglar?

“It’s me, Zayn!” a voice called back. Zayn’s voice, of course.

Even more confused, and now rather curious as well, Harry opened the door and ushered Zayn inside. He had to admit, his friend looked a little worse for ware; there were circles under his beautiful brown eyes, and his usual designer clothes were replaced by sweatpants and an old T-shirt. 

Zayn never wore sweatpants.

“Whoa,” Harry said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah... Well, no. Sorry, do you have a minute?” Zayn was fidgeting nervously in the foyer, playing with the strings on the sweatpants. It was only then that Harry noticed that Zayn’s arms were covered in large, multicolored bruises.

“Oh my god!” he cried, clapping a hand to his mouth in horror. “Zayn, did someone attack you? What the hell, who did this?! We have to call the police!”

“No, Harry, no, stop.” Zayn walked forward a few steps, wincing. “I just—can we talk? I’m fine, I swear.”

“We are getting you a shower, and food, and some nice warm pajamas, and you are spending the night, mister, because I’m not going to let you go back out there alone!” Harry picked Zayn up (not a difficult task) and carried him into the living room, where he set him gently on the couch. “Okay, tell me what happened!” he demanded, glancing about as though villains might leap out from behind the drapes.

Zayn took a deep breath. “I was... taking a walk,” he said stiffly, his hands clenched around a couch cushion. “And, er, well. Some bloke jumped me. Him and his mates. They just surrounded me, and there was like nobody around, and then one of them got this old T-shirt—” he gestured to the one he was wearing “—and threw it over my head. I couldn’t see, like, anything, and they were all just going at it, like, I didn’t think they would ever stop.” His voice cracked on the word “ever” and he looked down, tears leaking out of his eyes. 

“Oh, baby—” Harry began, looking as though he were about to explode with fury. His own hands clenched into fists.

Zayn interrupted him. “They took my clothes,” he said flatly, not looking up from his lap. “All my stuff. When I was sure they were gone, I took the shirt off my head and put it on. I found these things by a Dumpster.” He plucked at a loose thread on the sweatpants. “I thought I was lost, but then I saw a road sign and I knew you lived that way, so I thought I’d have a look around and see if I could find you. I’m just really glad I did.” He collapsed in on himself, trembling with the terror of recollection, and Harry immediately leapt to his side and held him until the shaking stopped. 

When it did, he said gently, “Zayn? It’s going to be okay. Listen, I’m getting Liam to come over right now, okay? I’m gonna call him right now. And I’ll, er, make you a cup of tea. That alright?”

Zayn attempted a smile. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Harry blinked away the wetness in his eyes. “No problem,” he said.

....

“Did you catch any of their names?” Liam had been there for over an hour, during which he had supervised Zayn’s bath, loaned Zayn some of his clothes, and brought him copious amounts of chocolate. For the past twenty minutes or so, the three friends had been sitting together on the living room couch, trying to figure out a way to identify the offenders from what little information Zayn could give them. They had tried calling Niall to see if he could come over, but he was currently trapped in a meeting with Simon, and apparently wasn’t allowed to leave, even for an emergency (or so Simon’s secretary told them).

“Well... I heard one...” Zayn pressed his hands into his eyes as he tried to remember. “... Stan,” he said finally, looking up and them. “There was Stan, he was the main one doing it, I think, and some bloke named Oli.”

“But you say there were four men in total?” Liam asked, looking troubled.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t hear if they said the other one’s names. I just remember ‘cause one bloke kept saying, ‘Get him, Stan. Get him, Stan.’ And then before they left, another one saying, ‘Come on, Oli, let’s get out of here.’ But that’s all I remember of their names.” He snuggled deeper into Liam’s side.

Liam patted Zayn’s knee absently, lost in thought. “The weird thing is...” he eventually said, “Those names actually ring a bell, don’t they? But I don’t know why they’d be familiar.”

“I know what you...” Harry suddenly gasped, jumping up in distress. “Oh my god!” he yelled, looking quite wild. “Those are the names of some of Louis’s friends! I’m not even kidding! Oh my god!”

“What the—?!” Liam stood as well, clearly on the verge of panic. “You don’t think Louis would—or, no, that’s mad, sorry—”

“It wasn’t Louis,” a voice said from the shadows. Naughty Boy stepped into full view, sweating fiercely and carrying a baseball bat loosely at his side.

Harry screamed. “HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE, OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS SO SO CREEPY!!!” He pulled out his phone, heaving for breath, and, before Naughty Boy could do so much as take a swing, dialed the police.

“Explain yourself!” Liam shouted, charging at Naughty Boy and pinning him against the wall. “You useless little monster!”

“I—I—I—”

“You sent some of Louis’s friends to beat up Zayn, didn’t you?! Because you were jealous that he got away from you, and you were too chicken to do it yourself!” He pressed him harder into the wallpaper. Naughty Boy seemed to regret coming out into the open. “I bet you reckoned you’d get two birds with one stone, huh? Get rid of your old friend and then pin the blame on Louis!” 

Naughty Boy gulped, clearly alarmed that Liam could guess his plans so accurately.

“You know, Zayn could have taken you on! He would’ve won! But you had to send four Doncaster blokes and an effing blindfold to cover his eyes to even have a chance, didn’t you?! DIDN’T YOU, SHAHID!?!” Liam had worked himself into quite a state; ignoring Naughty Boy’s splutters of denial, he pulled back a fist to get in a punch, and was just about to do so, when—

“STOP!” Harry roared, pulling Liam away from his victim. “ENOUGH! Liam, sit down, it isn’t worth going to jail for!” Now it was Liam who was spluttering, only giving up resistance when Zayn grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the couch. “And Naughty Boy? You can come with me, to wait until the police get here.” He dragged Naughty Boy out of the room, his cheeks blazing a fiery red.

Zayn patted Liam on the arm. “It’s alright,” he mouthed, though he was shaking again. 

Liam felt his anger ebbing away, leaving only a large, soulless pit of sadness. Louis’s friends had attacked Zayn. Paid off in some way, no doubt, and working for Naughty Boy of all people. And Louis wasn’t much better. Pretending Harry didn’t exist, going on and on about carrots even though they had all thought he let that little comment go years ago.

“I’m sorry, Zayn,” he said gruffly, hugging his small, quaking body to his chest. “It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” Zayn squeaked.

September 25th, 2015  
The Mirror

Louis stared at his face in the mirror, looked long and hard, the morning after he found out. What was wrong with him?

The lads had taken their sweet time, not telling him what had happened with Zayn until a week after it occurred, and yet, as if it could get any worse, he hadn’t even taken notice of their stony silence over the past few days. It had never occurred to him to give Zayn a ring, or ask if Niall wanted to play some football. 

He had, however, noticed the absence of his other friends. The night before Zayn was attacked, he and Calvin had gone clubbing, just to hang out, and at the end of the night, they’d agreed to meet at the same place two days later. Of course, that never happened, seeing as Calvin was, by then, in jail, but Louis should’ve known something was up. He’d seen the strange way Calvin was acting. The way he tensed up very time Louis let loose a rant against Naughty Boy. The tired, almost bored look in his eye when Louis explained to him the importance of carrots to the ecosystem. 

And, strangest of all (though it didn’t really have anything to do with Zayn) his last question, before they parted ways:

“Man, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why the in the bloody hell didn’t you use a condom?”

“What?!”

“Just sayin’.”

Needless to say, he hadn’t been too keen to see old Calvin two days later. 

But he didn’t even need to worry about that, apparently, because Calvin, Oli, Luke and Stan—almost all of his hometown friends!—had paired up with the one and only Naughty Boy, attacked one of his best mates in the whole world, and landed themselves in jail.

Well, then. They could just bail themselves out.

And still, the question remained: What was wrong with him?

December 5th, 2015  
A Challenge

“Do you wanna get some ice cream?” Niall asked, skipping down the sidewalk. Typical Niall, Harry thought, rolling his eyes. It was below zero out, in the icicle city of London, and the man wanted ice cream.

“Erm. Is that a trick question?” Harry grumped, pulling the beanie he was wearing down over his ears (to keep them from falling off, from being frozen, because yes, really, it was really too cold for ice cream). 

Niall shook his head.

“Well, then, sorry, Niall. I don’t really fancy freezing my insides off as well, thanks.”

“Come on,” Niall whined. “I’ll pay!”

Harry frowned. “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to die.”

“Well, then,” Niall looked around for a new distraction. “Race you to that tree!” he shouted, and, laughing deliriously, sped off in the general direction of a tree.

“No—come on—wait, you guys—!” pleaded their bodyguard, but Harry only spared him an apologetic glance before taking off after Niall.

....

“Wow. Just a few months left, now. What do you think our little angel’s thinking?” Louis placed his hand on Briana’s tummy (she hated when people did that; just because she was pregnant didn’t mean she wanted everyone touching her there) and leaned in close.

“No idea,” Briana replied, ignoring Louis’s stare in favor of the book she was reading. “Go away.”

“Go away!” Louis repeated, shocked. “But I was just about to tell you—to announce—”

She looked up warily. “What?” she asked (It had been a rough few months).

Louis bit back a grin, clearly quite pleased with himself. “I’ve painted baby’s nursery,” he said, grabbing her by the hand before she could pull away. “Come have a look.”

Briana gave a huff, but did as she was told, following Louis up the stairs and to the baby’s bedroom-to-be. 

Louis opened the door and stepped inside, beaming with pride at his handiwork. As the room was revealed, Briana’s eyes widened in alarm. In all honesty, she had to bite back a scream.

The walls were painted bright, bright blue. With carrots. All over. Some of them had faces.

“Jesus Christ,” Briana whispered, holding a hand to her mouth to cover up a grimace. “It’s... It’s...”

“Indescribable,” Louis said, miraculously mistaking her horror for inconceivable joy. “I know. It’s like magic, isn’t it? This is what you made me feel like, the first time I saw you. And I finally managed to capture that feeling, here, on these very walls. It’s very emotional, don’t you think?” He wiped a tear from his eye impatiently. “I rose to the challenge... Of your love.” He gazed at her adoringly.

Briana suddenly felt quite ill.

“I think... I’m going to be sick,” she said.

Louis’s mouth, which had been smiling moments before, now formed a perfect, round O.

January 21st, 2016  
The Visit

Harry walked up the long, expensive driveway up to Louis’s new house in L.A. He walked up the steps. He rang the doorbell.

Nothing.

Okay, calm down, he’s probably just listening to music or something, and couldn’t hear you, Harry thought to himself, trying not to freak out, trying not to notice the security cameras pointed straight at him. He could be watching you right now.

No. 

He rang again.

...Nothing.

February 12th, 2016  
Breathing Time

The dark, swirling ocean weighed down on him, always heavy, always, there, blinding him whichever way he turned.

But now—a light. He could see it sometimes, just at the farthest point above his head—a glimmer.

Louis knew what it meant.

He wouldn’t be underwater much longer.

March 7th, 2016  
The Birth, The Day, The End

Twelve hours in labor. Until finally, finally, Louis’s little baby boy was born, at 5:25 PM. The rest of the lads weren’t there to wait with him in the lobby, but he didn’t mind. When the doctor came and told Louis he could see his friend now, he was ecstatic.

He felt like he was floating as he followed the doctor, down the hall, into a room, and straight to the smile of his best friend in the whole world.

“Briana!” he cried, rushing to embrace her. She grinned at him tiredly, peeling back the bundle of blankets in her arms to reveal a tiny red face, sleeping peacefully in its cocoon.

Louis had never been so happy. Tears dripped down to his chin, onto the bundle, onto Briana. There was only one thing left to do. “His name,” he said, voice wavering with emotion, “...Is Kevin Carrots Tomlinson.” And Louis was floating, floating up and up and up, towards the surface, towards—

He broke through.

“What?!” he gasped, reeling from the shock of it all. 

“What, what!?” Briana repeated, balking at his swaying form (and disastrous name choice).

“I—I—” Louis spun around in a wild circle, taking in the confused doctor, the young blond woman lying in a hospital bed. For a moment, he couldn’t remember who they even were—and then it came crashing down on him. The memories of what he’d done. “No—no—!” he screamed, falling to his knees, tears pouring down his face in earnest.

“Oh, no, do you need help—?” the doctor fretted, but Louis scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door before he could offer assistance.

He ran, hard and fast, through the hospital, out the doors, and into the dull, gray parking lot. “I’M SORRY!” he shrieked to the heavens, voice cracking, heart breaking open. “I MADE A MISTAKE!” Now that the memories had started, he couldn’t stop them, couldn’t stop replaying that night in the club, when he had first laid eyes on that woman, and the carrots, and the look on Harry’s face and—oh, God, Harry, what had he done, he’d ruined it all, lost all his friends and nearly a year of his life, never to get back, no, no, all was lost, he’d ruined everything, what was he going to do…

Closing scene: A cold L.A. evening in a hospital parking lot. One young man sat alone on the pavement, his body wracked with sobs, and thought about all that he had done.

His companion was nowhere in sight.

 

The End


End file.
